


Derek Hale Does Not Giggle

by saviourhale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Derek is ticklish, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Post-Season/Series 02, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Tickle Fights, and he's a petulant child, derek doesn't like to share, derek is totally an alpha still, possibly during the summer?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 00:46:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4856765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saviourhale/pseuds/saviourhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles doesn’t know how they got here.</p><p>He doesn’t remember the exact moment they toppled off the couch in a heap of limbs, all he knows is that he is currently straddling Derek’s waist, helplessly trying to pin his strong arms down to pry the damn remote away. He hears a small sigh, or giggle? Was that a giggle?</p><p>Derek stills, eyes wide once he realizes that he just giggled—he freaking giggled right when Stiles’ hand brushed his side. A giggle—Derek just freaking giggled.</p><p>Derek Hale does not giggle. Ever.</p><p>"Did you just—was, was that—did you just giggle?” Stiles asks giddily, mouth hanging open not quite believing that was Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Derek Hale Does Not Giggle

**Author's Note:**

> Way back when, I was thinking about tickle fights, and loving the thought of Derek being ticklish. This happened. Hope you enjoy!

Derek lets out a sigh as he walks into his loft—with a hand full of groceries, he spares a wary glance towards the living room area where Stiles is presently sitting right smack in the middle of his couch. His feet are propped up on the coffee table, and in one hand, he’s clutching the remote making himself right at home.

"Why?" Derek sighs—yes sighs, Derek most definitely does not whine.

The question isn’t really directed towards Stiles of course, but more towards whatever greater power is out there insisting on making his life miserable.

Derek places his bag on the counter top and turns towards Stiles, a silent ‘what the hell are you doing here’ is obviously implied. With folded arms, he waits for Stiles to explain himself.

Stiles shushes him instead, offering him a dismissive wave of his hand not even glancing away from the screen.

Derek wonders how this is his life as he glares at the back of Stiles' head.

He just wanted to spend the night in his underwear, sit on the couch—the one that Stiles was currently hogging by the way, thank you very much—and catch up on Game of Thrones all the while he stuffed his face with chips and pizza.

He just wanted to have a night to himself where he wasn’t running around the woods half naked fighting the big bad of the week, trying to keep his pack safe, along with the whole population of Beacon Hills.

"Quit pouting" Stiles says knowingly—still not looking at Derek.

Derek just rolls his eyes refusing to acknowledge he’d been ‘pouting’ and instead, he goes back to his groceries and starts putting everything in their corresponding spots.

-

Once Derek’s made sure everything is in its right place, he walks to stand over Stiles who completely ignores him still very much engrossed with his Zombie show. Derek takes this as an opportunity and bends over to snatch the remote out of Stiles’ hand who in turn flails in an effort to keep his grip on the remote and tumbles off the couch.

"Rude!" Stiles exclaims glaring from his spot on the ground while Derek flops down on the couch. "What the hell was that for?" he demands trying to take back the remote on his way back up.

He fails miserably, Derek swiftly moves his hand out of reach and Stiles staggers a bit letting out a long aggravated puff of air. He flops back down next to Derek and stares at him with furrowed brows.

"My TV" Derek replies easily, and he’s aware that he sounds like a selfish petulant child but he honestly couldn’t care less.

"Really Derek?" Stiles asks incredulously quirking an eyebrow. "My TV?" Stiles mocks in return, "that’s your excuse?"

"Yup" Derek says with a nod, "mineeeee" he says again dragging out the word. He turns back to the TV smirking when Stiles just opens his mouth and nothing comes out.

He just sits there gaping at Derek for a moment and then squints his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest leaning back on the couch grumbling about _‘stupid selfish, possessive, caveman-like asshole werewolves who don’t know how to share’_.

"Dude, that’s not even fair I was here first" Stiles whines a few moments later.

“You do realize—this is my house?” Derek asks quirking a brow at Stiles.

“That’s really not the point” Stiles tells him trying to grab the remote once more.

"It is, it is the most important point, actually” Derek explains.

“You’re not serious, right?” Stiles asks squinting dubiously at Derek.

“You’re interrupting my night of half-naked sitting on my couch and TV watching—so yeah. I’m serious, this is my house, my TV, my remote, mine, mine, mine, all mine" Derek says for the millionth time.

He only feels a little guilty for behaving so childishly.

"Sharing is caring" Stiles states as a matter of fact. "And to be fair, no one’s really stopping you" he adds with a smirk.

"I didn’t change the channel" Derek offers with a shrug. "And wait, what?" he asks a few seconds later tilting his head so he can look at Stiles with an uplift brow.

"I said no one’s really stopping you" Stiles repeats. Derek stares at him for a bit, then shrugs and moves to stand up.

Derek doesn’t miss the way Stiles’ tongue peaks out from his mouth to lick at his lips, doesn’t miss the small uptick of his heartbeat as it faintly speeds up.

Shamelessly distracted by the fact that Derek is actually going to strip off his clothes, Stiles doesn’t even notice Derek placing the remote on the table. With a smirk, Derek crosses his arms over his torso pulling his shirt upwards and tosses it aside.

It takes all of Stiles will power to look away instead of admiring Derek’s beautiful tanned and toned body. He focuses on breathing evenly while desperately asking his heart to stop jack-rabbiting in his chest.

It’s just Derek’s abs, he’s seen them a handful of times.

But then from his peripheral he sees Derek’s hands move to his waist, and Stiles’ head snaps back up to Derek’s face.

"I—I thought you said, ha—half naked?" Stiles squeaks, and he mentally slaps himself, smooth. Derek pauses, his sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips.

"Yeah, half naked, as in just my underwear" Derek says with a smirk.

"Right, right—no yeah, of course" Stiles says pursing his lips. "Of course" he looks down at the coffee table and notices the remote, and for a few seconds he forgets about Derek mini strip tease as he lounges for it.

Derek makes this rumbly warning sound and snatches the remote away before Stiles can even so much as blink. He removes his sweats swiftly and throws it next to his shirt.

"Why do you even need to have the remote?" Stiles asks feeling oddly out of breath and flushed. He groans it all on stupid half-naked Derek.

"Why do you?" Derek asks in turn. He shoots Stiles a smug look, taking pride on the fact that he’s taking longer than usual to come up with a witty reply.

Stiles will swear it has nothing to do with the fact that Derek is literally two feet away from him in all his half-naked glory.

"Exactly" Derek says smirking as he goes to sit back down.

It’s only moments later that Stiles decides to pounce on Derek who is totally taken aback. They fall onto the couch, lanky limbs flailing all around, earning Derek slap to the face, and Stiles a knee to the stomach.

"Stiles, what the hell?" Derek growls pushing Stiles face away with his free hand.

"Give me the damn remote Derek!" Stiles demands swatting Derek’s hand away from his face.

"Like hell I will” Derek retorts tucking his remote clutching hand into the side of the couch.

"How very mature" Stiles grumbles trying again for the remote.

"Says the one who just tackled me to the couch and slapped me—which thank you by the way!" Derek says sarcastically.

"You’re welcome!" Stiles snipes back making Derek roll his eyes so hard, Stiles thinks they must have done a full three sixty. "You know, you keep rolling your eyes like that, one of these days they’re gonna roll right off like The Corpse Bride’s" Stiles says shaking his head.

"Just watch the show Stiles" Derek says with a grin.

" _Just watch the show Stiles_ " Stiles mimics bobbing his head around.

"Really?" Derek asks.

" _Really_?" Stiles mimics once more.

"Fine, you want this?" Derek asks showing the remote to Stiles who gives him a ‘no shit you asshole’ look. "Fine, tell you what—five chances. I’ll give you five chances to take the remote away from me, and if after the fifth try you still haven’t managed to take the remote away from me, you have to stop, deal?"

Stiles sits there contemplating his chances and odds are he won’t succeed, but it also wouldn’t hurt to try.

'You just want an excuse to press up against all his alpha goodness' Stiles hears somewhere in the back of his head.

He squints his eyes and decides that yes, he's gonna try this.

"Fine" he answers after a minute. Derek smirks and gives Stiles a ‘well then?’ look.

-

Stiles doesn’t know how they got here.

He doesn’t remember the exact moment they toppled off the couch in a heap of limbs, all he knows is that he is currently straddling Derek’s waist, helplessly trying to pin his strong arms down to pry the damn remote away. He hears a small sigh, or giggle? Was that a giggle?

Derek stills, eyes wide once he realizes that he just giggled—he freaking _giggled_ right when Stiles’ hand brushed his side. A giggle—Derek just freaking giggled.

Derek Hale does not giggle. Ever.

"Did you just—was, was that—did you just _giggle_?” Stiles asks giddily, mouth hanging open not quite believing that was Derek.

"No" Derek is too quick to answer. Stiles licks his lips and smirks down at Derek who in turn glares.

Slowly but surely, Stiles brings down one of his hands to brush up against the side of Derek’s torso causing Derek to breathe out the smallest of laughs.

Derek composes himself easily.

"Stiles" he says warningly.

"No way dude, that’s not gonna work this time" Stiles says his eyes glinting mischievously. "Give me the remote, Derek" he says sweetly. Derek shakes his head and Stiles tuts at him. "Well then, don’t say I didn’t give you a chance" he says before leaning down and tickling Derek sides.

Derek wants to die.

He wants to run away and hide under a freaking rock.

He was lying there completely at Stiles mercy, rumbly laughter filling the living room while Stiles _tickled_ his sides with those stupid long fingers of his.

How did this even happen? Why did this happen? More importantly, why wasn’t Derek stopping it?

"St—Stiles! S—St-stop!" Derek breathes out between fits of laughter.

Stiles was enjoying this way too much but he couldn’t help it, the sound of Derek’s laughter was beautiful and utterly contagious, and he wanted to drown in it.

Ignoring Derek’s giggly pleas, Stiles continues with the task at hand.

"You gonna hand over the remote" Stiles asks swatting away Derek’s hands. It’s only a matter of time before Derek overpowers Stiles, so he’s gonna milk this moment till its last drop.

Derek shakes his head and Stiles starts to tickle him once again, but as predicted, Derek manages to find a way of flipping them over. The tables had turned and it was now Derek the one who was straddling Stiles hips and pining down his arms.

"Oh shit" Stiles breathed out.

"Oh shit is quite right" Derek says, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath.

"Derek buddy, you know what, it’s okay—keep the remote. Like you said, it’s yours, I’m just gonna go home now so if you don’t mind" Stiles babbles squirming beneath Derek.

"No, I do mind, I do mind very much. Now tell me Stiles, are _you_ ticklish?" Derek asks his breathing now somewhat under control.

"I uh—no?" Stiles questions rather than answers, "no, n-not that I recall" he stammers trying to look pensive, squinting one eye.

Derek smirks and raises an eyebrow after hearing the uptick of a lie in Stiles heartbeat.

"Wanna try that again?" Derek asks with a smirk.

"I am not ticklish!" Stiles exclaims, but there it is, the blip in his heartbeat that gives him away.

"So you’re telling me that if I touch you here" Derek whispers moving his hand down to Stiles ribs, "it won’t tickle?" he asks innocently. Stiles shakes his head fervently and Derek chuckles. "Liar" he says lightly pressing his fingers into Stiles’ side. Stiles twitches under Derek’s touch and it’s his turn to let out a small giggle.

"Fuck" he mutters under his breath.

"Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Derek, I’m sorry I won’t tell anyone, I promise, I just—no, no, no, D-d—stop!" Stiles laughs out squirming under Derek’s hold.

"I’m sorry, what was that?" Derek asks chuckling as he continues to tickle Stiles.

"O-o—okay!" Stiles squeeks. That causes Derek to pause and look down at Stiles who’s flushed all over and panting still giggling a bit; he places both of his hands on either sides of Stiles’ face and looks at him expectantly.

"Okay fine, fine I get it, it’s not so cool when you’re on the receiving end of the tickles, sorry. Please don’t tickle me again unless you want to spend the rest of the night scrubbing off pee from the floor" Stiles says.

Derek gets distracted by Stiles’ half parted lips and the rise of Stiles chest. He quickly looks up to meet Stiles’ gaze.

"If you piss yourself, you’re gonna do the scrubbing" Derek says.

"Ha, get off me you brute" Stiles laughs pushing away Derek’s body as he lifts himself off the ground, his hands lingering a moment too long on Derek’s chest. "Keep your freaking remote, it’s not that special anyways" he says pulling his hands away as Derek chuckled and moved to sit on the floor. 

Stiles let his eyes flicker down to Derek’s lips, his tongue darting out to wet his slightly dry lips. He forces himself to look away moving to get up when one of Derek’s hands darts up to wrap around his wrist, pulling him down. He falls down sprawled all over Derek’s lap with a aoft oomph.

"Wha..?" he starts to say, but Derek doesn’t let him finish. He presses his lips to Stiles and hums with satisfaction. He pulls away to look at Stiles who just looks at him with wide eyes.

"Mine" Derek explains with a smirk.

"Selfish, possessive asshole" Stiles says with a smile tugging at his lips. He tackles Derek to the floor and kisses him with more enthusiasm this time. Derek lets out a small laugh and kisses Stiles back.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this forever ago, but I fixed it up a bit, changed a few things. Decided I should upload it.
> 
> Anyways, this will be up on my tumblr as well. Hope you guys enjoyed it.
> 
> Thanks so much for taking the time to read, kudos, and bookmark my works. it means the world to me. xx


End file.
